What is Sex, Anyway?
by Andyouthinkimcrazy
Summary: Yaoi YBxYM Bakura remembers growing up alone and how difficult it was figuring out what was happening to him as he became an adult.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yugioh and I make no money.

**Warnings:** Yaoi, masterbation, voyeurism , rape, and language.

**Author's Note:** I don't claim to actually know exactly what happens while growing up as a little boy... I was born a girl, you know, heck, I still am. lol

**What is Sex, Anyway?**

You must know that I grew up alone from a very young age. All I knew was what my family had told me when they still lived and it wasn't much that I could live my whole life by. I had few morals, I knew little of death and how to cope, and I certainly knew nothing of adolescence. In time I learned right from wrong, though I usually did wrong anyhow, and I learned how to hide my sadness under waves of anger and I learned that revenge was the only way to finally put my loss behind me; but even now I don't think I fully understand the changes I went through while growing up under the harsh desert sun. What was growing up anyhow? Why did these changes occur? What resulted of these changes?

I thought it was a night terror at first. I dreamt that I had been captured by the very man who had ordered the slaughter of my family and friends and I was left alone for him to do with as he will. I was angry and ashamed at my capture and I snarled at him as he came near; I struggled vainly with the bonds the guards had left me in. He knelt before me and captured my silver locks in his hand; I was forced to look up at him, though I could see nothing but shadows, and small patches of tanned skin where the light hit his face. My struggling had halted, as there was no way I could move; though the warning snarls in my throat continued. He raised his hand as if to strike me, but instead it ran from the tip of my chin down my neck. This occurred several times and I thought he would strangle me; but he continued lower with his gentle caresses.

Shortly after I awoke and tried to shake away the confusion, but that task was ignored when I noticed that my clothes were wet. I was embarrassed to come to the conclusion that I had been so terrified as to wet myself; but deep down something told me that I had felt something other than terror.

The following week I had other dreams, the likes of which were very different. One I had been surrounded by women and another had been a man and his wife; the only similarities were that they all touched me in the same sort of way and after the dreams were finished I always woke up to the same mess. After a while I could only conclude that something was wrong with me, and that I might be sick.

After waking up I usually ignored the dreams and continued my day as per every day preceding; but after determining I was sick I thought about possible ways to cure it. I thought about the dreams that had been occurring and it became accompanied by a strange feeling in my gut; I realized it had been there in all of the dreams as well.

I was startled to find that something had happened to my lower body while I was in thought, but I tried to ignore it. I stopped thinking about the dreams and I simply continued to trudge through the desert; it wouldn't go away and it seemed that each step I took only seemed to irritate it more.

Finally I was fed up and I lifted my kilt to look at it, the flesh was throbbing and red and I scowled at it; it did not return to its regular limp state. I grabbed it roughly in hopes of forcing it back down only to freeze as my body was filled with the strangest sensation; I nearly collapsed into the sand as it continually coursed through me. My hand moved on its own with continual stroking movements and eventually my legs gave out and crashed into the burning sand, though I hardly noticed. I whimpered and moaned as my hand stroked and my hips moved forward and back gently at first and then faster and faster until I uttered a wordless cry and fell back into the sand. A few moments later I noticed the mess I had made and I buried it under the sand.

I soon realized that I wasn't really sick, it was just what I was thinking of that caused that reaction; though I didn't really know why I was suddenly thinking of things the way I did. I started to have particular fantasies of people I'd seen that day; sometimes I'd even follow a person in hopes that they'd see me and one of my fantasises might come true; but it never happened.

Eventually I realized that these thoughts were getting in the way of my revenge and I stopped pursuing the people of my fantasies; well, for a while. It was probably two years later that I saw the most beautiful woman just walking down the street and I was assaulted by that feeling in my stomach. I followed her for some time, but she never noticed me; she simply went into her home and left me. This time I was not deterred by her lack of perception; I snuck glances through her window and I watched her sway as she moved about making food, probably for her husband.

I watched for hours after that, I watched her husband go through the door, I watched them eat, and I listened to them as they talked. He was talking about making an heir with her. She cleaned up after their meal and then I watched, mesmerised, as they undressed and lay on the little rug in the corner of the room. They touched each other and they moaned the way I had when I touched myself, it was so intoxicating that I couldn't help but touch myself as well.

I bit my lip as I watched them; he grew hard under her touch and for the first time I knew for sure that I wasn't strange for what happened to me. She began to beg him and I watched her hand drop away he moved between her legs and pushed his hips forward; but that was all I saw. That night I had a very uncomfortable time fleeing capture.

That experience made me even more confused about my body's reactions, I had thought that I had figured out why my body acted the way it did; but now I had learned that somehow doing what that pair did made children. I began to think about it more, if a man and a woman made children then what did two women make, or two men? And what gender did I belong with?

I thought for a long time and decided that I probably belonged with a woman, since that's what most people tended to do; I also pictured the ideal woman in my mind. She would be like me, with long silver hair and tanned skin, she would have a slender body, but one that was strong enough to traverse the lands by my side. She would be kind and gentle to me, but just as angry with the Pharaoh as I; together we would take him down. I searched for her, but again I realized that I was wasting my time chasing a dream when there was revenge to be exacted. I decided to hunt her down after I had completed my mission.

Of course, I never did get my revenge; I was sealed in the Ring where those thoughts of a wife and family seemed to die as my anger and hatred for the Pharaoh grew. It was so unbridled that upon release I didn't even notice that my host was nearly the embodiment of the woman of my dreams. Well, he was half there; he didn't have tan skin, he didn't hate the Pharaoh, his hair wasn't as long as I wanted and he wasn't a girl, but he was strong, slender, kind and gentle even though I messed with his mind and hurt those he cared for.

It took me a long time to notice him, but even then I vowed not to let the boy distract me from the revenge that I had waited so long for. I failed quite miserably at keeping my feelings from him, but Ryou resisted me; he wanted me to stop my attacks on his friend Yugi, but I refused to abandon my revenge so he refused me.

I was desperately confused now that I had these weird feelings of admiration for my host constantly in the foremost of my mind. I pushed him away for a time and locked him out of my doings with his body. I thought that my sex life couldn't get any more hectic, but it did and I was all the more confused.

I went out to frighten mortals when I came across Marik, the psychotic personality of the Rod's keeper, Malik. We sneered out insults at each other for nearly five minuets before I got angry and turned to stalk off. He used the Rod's power to hold me in place which I promptly fought off using my own power, but as I struggled he had approached me and before I knew it he had smacked me with the blunt object. I fell to the ground where he hit me several more times, and even the glowing magic from the Ring seemed unable to halt the continuous pelt of his Rod about my head.

"How dare you insult me?" He had screamed as he struck me a final time. I lay there dazed and in pain for a moment, I thought he had left me there to my humiliation but he knelt over me again. I growled as I took in his appearance, he had discarded his clothes, for what, I hadn't known; but in seconds it became clear. He forced my mouth open for his sex to slide in and though I struggled and fought I was helpless.

In a moment of shock I had opened the link I shared with Ryou, 'What is he doing to me?' I had asked. My host sobbed and for a long time he said nothing. It was only after Marik had filled my mouth with his release that he said anything.

'Oh, Bakura, he can't—he can't—' I had urged him to finish while I struggled again with Marik. He was using the Rod's blade to slice off my clothes while he held me down with his other hand. I screamed curses at him as a small part of me shivered in fright; somehow I knew what was going to happen to me, even though Ryou didn't tell me in favour of sobbing.

My struggling didn't cease after he had rid me of my clothes, and this seemed to anger him all the more; Marik turned the blade on me. The sharp point ran along my sides, drawing blood in its wake and I hissed and growled at him; he simply ignored my anger and lapped up the liquid.

"You want me, don't you Bakura?" I snarled at him, "Yes, keep angering me, it makes me want to fuck you all the more." It was at that moment that he turned me onto my stomach and pressed into my body, I screamed as he took my virginity. For the first time I found a pain greater than most of what I had suffered through the years.

I asked Ryou about it, what had it meant? Sex was what I saw that couple back in Egypt do, but what I went through with Marik was rape. But the difference was love and hate. It frustrates me, what I saw, and what I went through was the same act, but Ryou assures me that they're different.

I still love Ryou, but if the only difference between sex and rape is love and hate then how do I know that my host won't hurt me too? How can someone trust another not to rape them? How do they know if they're loved or hated? What does it all mean? What is sex, anyway?

---The End---

Beh, I don't like the ending.


End file.
